


Growth

by PolarGrizz47



Series: Memories of Ghosts [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Guardian Death, Remembrance of the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 17:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: There is a tree in the old forest that has grown large and magnificent. And woven into its branches sits a Ghost shell, blooming with life and teeming with energy.





	Growth

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really early in the morning... sorry for mistakes! Will probably edit once again later.

My Guardian is a strange man. He woke with ages and ages of wisdom, almost enough to match my own.

I had been searching for countless years. Lords fell and were crowned anew. Packs grew and dwindled down into nothing. Cities rose and collapsed. 

Other Ghosts that I knew had found their Guardians in time, one by one, until I was the only one left in our little group that hadn’t discovered their partner. They told me not to worry. Assured me that one day, I would find them.

I knew they were right. And so slowly, I continued my search for many cycles. Then, as I passed over the beautiful remains of a Golden Age civilization, tucked away in the mountains, I felt a pull. I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited.

When I found Luca, I knew immediately that he was my other half.

His light was careful and meticulous, caring and old. His remains were buried under a mountain of old books, molded and musty from exposure to the weather. The library's roof was caved in, letting a soft glow of moonlight rain down upon the area. 

It felt almost right finding him here, in the EDZ. 

It felt so humbling.

A greatness from a small beginning. 

Everytime he spoke, it was careful, deliberate. He was not a man of many words, instead, when he spoke, his words were filled with only his truths. I listened wholeheartedly, enjoying our most private conversations.

I remember once, on Titan, we spent a long time caring for the plants while the filtration system was fixed. He walked through the massive forest of greenery with such care, carrying a heavy pack of water. 

His soft eyes would land on the tiniest plants. Struggling to survive without their constant water source while the larger ones thrived off of their sorrow. Lovingly, he would water the plants and run his fingertips over the leaves, as if he could listen to the plant’s unspoken story.

“Why do you do this?” I asked him, bobbing by his head as he moved onto a new plant.

He looked at me with a smile, kind and patient. “All life is precious, you see, Akas. You must cherish even the smallest things for they can bloom into something so wondrous. Everyone deserves that chance.”

“You know these plants don’t have a chance. Their neighbors will consume all the resources, even once the filtration is fixed,” I told him, watching his fingers gently touch at a petal.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter. We give everything, and everyone a chance to succeed. They deserve that much, you see?”

He was a man of many riddles. Sometimes he contradicted himself, his wisdom would overlap and stray, changing on the situation.

One day, as he trekked across the frozen expanse of the EDZ, I remember watching a herd of large animals race ahead of us across the open plains. We stayed in the trees, watching them. From the back, we quickly noticed a pack of wolves closing in on the herd. 

Slowly, steadily, an older bison fell behind. The wolves circled it quickly, latching onto it with strong jaws and leaving smears of blood on the pristine snow. 

“Why doesn’t it fight more?” I asked, resting by Luca’s throat as I huddled into his warmth. 

He watched that old bison with a mixture of pain and understanding. “It is old. Can’t keep up with the herd. The natural order of things.”

“No,” I said, turning my golden eye onto him,  _ “Why  _ does it do it?”

Luca considered my question for a moment before he took in a deep breath, held it. Slowly, he sighed. “Because it knows that it has reached the end of its journey. It knows that the wolves will chase the herd until another falls. So… it sacrifices itself. In doing so, it has secured the lives of new members, if only for a little while.”

“You are a romantic, aren’t you?” I teased, voice hushed while the wolves finished their business and began the feast.

“Perhaps I am, Akas. But this system is so cruel. I’ll take my hope where I can,” He whispered, turning away from the scene to continue their exploration.

My last memory of Luca is bittersweet.

The Last City had fallen into disarray. Civilians and now lightless Guardians were being slaughtered if they couldn’t hide or escape the City’s walls. What once protected us now trapped us. 

When we lost our light, I reacted terribly. I collapsed right to the ground and was out for quite some time. I came to without a scratch, held safely in Luca’s gloved hands.

I remember he was shaking. His face was pale, eyes lidded heavily and blood rolling down his nose and lips. His middle was covered in red too. 

A slug shot, perhaps.

In all honesty, I had been surprised to see him still alive. I had been even more surprised by our absence of light.

“Luca,” I promised, floating out of his hands slowly, “Hold on, I’ll figure this out.”

“Nah,” He’d coughed and laughed, his head lolling towards the left. I turned and found a huddled group of civilians, covered in ash and blood. Their eyes were shining with horror and pain and yet… hope.

Hope despite the odds.

I glanced back at him and suddenly realized what he was thinking. “Luca,” I choked over my words, finding my strength weaning under the truth, “Please, hold on. I can fix you, I can --”

“S’okay,” He wheezed, his smile was streaked in red. “This isn’t about me anymore, Akas… this is about them,” The man nodded, struggling to lift his chin back up.

“No!” I couldn't let it end like this. Not after everything we had been through. Our journey couldn’t end here -- I couldn’t accept it.

I still can’t.

But he only reached to his side, reloading his trusted revolver slowly. His fingers slipped over the bullets and he grumbled as he reached down to pick back them. As he sat slumped against the door, I recognized the full extent of his injuries. I couldn't believe that he'd even held out this long.

His lips were tinged with more and more blood with every rasping breath. He motioned with his free hand towards the small group of survivors, about six in total. “Take them through the underground tunnels. You...You know the ones, Akas.”

I floated around him, trying uselessly to heal his pain. 

“Luca… please…”

“Not a lot we can do, Akas,” My Guardian whispered, only pausing to cough harshly. His hand is covered in red as he pulls it away from his chin, slumping heavily against the door. “Go on, I’ll hold the line.” 

“I should stay here - with you -”

“No… my story is coming to a close, Akas… I know that. I… I have to do this. So that  _ their _ story can continue,” He nods towards the survivors and they sob and shake as rockets shake the city while the war rages on outside. 

“They’ll never make it,” I had hissed, angry and afraid.

And Luca - that damn romantic - only smiled. “You have to give even the smallest lights a chance to grow into a flame. You gave  _ me _ that chance, Akas…”

The worst part was that he was right. 

I knew it.

As Luca’s life came to an end, I was cherishing his final hold and kiss against my shell, leading the survivors through the old, musty tunnels. I remember they were so quiet, terrified.

But when we got out of the city, their desire to live and grow shined brightly in the fallout of my lost star. I clung to that, even if my whole being ached with Luca’s death.

Despite the lack of light, I…  _ felt _ his death.

I knew the exact moment when the Red Legion troops took him from me. 

I don’t quite remember how we got to The Farm. I was so focused on just keeping them alive, fulfilling Luca’s final wish.

Now, as I reflect upon my Guardian, I realize how tired I am…

I can feel a pull towards the dark forest as if there is some sort of light trying to reach out and comfort me. But the Traveler is gone. 

And I am alone.

I find myself drifting through the forests surrounding The Farm. I cannot resist the lure of them. Those old trees remind me of Luca.

The forest is quite beautiful, filled with all sorts of life. Old and young, all meaningful.

Luca taught me that much…

There is a small seedling here, just budding from the ground with tiny, brittle leaves. It is so calming to see, a reassuring sight in these dark times…

I think… I think I will rest here… just for… a little… while…

-:-

There is a tree in the old forest that has grown large and magnificent. And woven into its branches sits a Ghost shell, blooming with life and teeming with energy. 

Many Guardian’s think that the place is sacred. 

They go there to think.

To understand the world.

Some Guardian’s have claimed that they have heard the phantom voices of a fellow Guardian and his Ghost discussing the intricacies of the world. Laughing. Their names are lost on the wind.

Others have claimed to see an old Guardian resting against the tree, a Ghost held to his chest while he sleeps.

Many civilians leave small gifts in the branches, and the trinkets hang from its limbs like promises. Nobody dares to disturb those gifts, either.

There is a peace at that tree, a light in even the most unexpected of places.

What was once a little seedling has grown into a grand sight, a memoir of a fallen Ghost and Guardian whose names have been lost in the horrors of the Red War.

But the tree continues to grow throughout the years.

From the smallest seedling to the grandest of oaks.

It stands as a testament to the light. 

And to love. 

**Author's Note:**

> This one was fun to write.


End file.
